Time for me?

So I just had this long conversation with BFF on the phone and she urged me to take some time for myself. She suggested even taking 20 minutes out of the day to go and buy some milk at the grocery store and getting on the longest line if that's what it took to get some "me" time. I kept arguing with her that I didn't need it. I say I don't want to leave the girls at home and all I would do while I was being alone would be worrying about them. It's silly, I know. And those of you who know BFF know she can be quite persistent. When she thinks something is the right thing to do, she will get you to agree - whether you like it or not! But, really, what kind of lives are we living that going to the grocery store alone is considered a mini-vacation? When I think of "me" time, I think it's being too self-serving, like my whole life should center on my kids and only them. Then I was reminded of that thing they tell you on an airplane. If the oxygen masks come down, put yours on first and then put on your child's. At first you think, "That's crazy! I would help my child before I help myself!" But, if you're passed out (or dead) you can't help them at all. So, I'm going to try it. I'm going to go for a walk or sit outside and read or do something nice that doesn't involve stress. Because I realize I'm at the point where I fake constipation just to get five minutes to myself in the bathroom. I think I need a new plan!

Taking a Dive

This morning, I watched my little girl stand on a diving board. You need a mental picture - we're at the Marist College pool, where Caty is taking her second week of swim class. There are banners hanging from the rafters touting the school's triumphs in the MAAC and NCAA. I'm getting visions of my daughter gliding through the pool on her way to a trophy while I sit in the bleachers cheering her on. The reality? Total fear. You can see it in her eyes, the way she stands, it's rippling through her. This girl won't even jump into deep end of the pool unless someone is there to catch her. It's bad enough that her lessons take place in 12 feet of water. She doesn't understand that swimming is the same in four feet as it is in 10 feet. She had told me that morning that she didn't want to even go to swim class and there was no way in a million years that she would jump off the diving board. The whole class, I pretend not to watch her. I see how stiff she is. I know everything she is doing wrong. I wish she would understand that if she would just relax, she would be swimming like a fish in no time. But, I read my book. I grit my teeth. I talk to myself. I ask God to give her courage. She is filled with dread. I see her standing on that board waiting for the girl ahead of her to swim to the side. The longer Caty waits, the more apprehensive she gets. Then, she starts edging farther out onto the board. She's almost at the end. So, I've got my phone out and start taping. I can't wait for her to jump and send it to everyone. I'm filled with anticipation. I'm so happy. And wouldn't you know, the moment that little girl jumps off the board??? Some guy walks right in front of me!!! I'm not sending everyone pictures of this guy's back, so I'm praying Caty will jump again next week!

Wisdom??

I'm pretty sure the guy that invented Legos didn't live in a place where people walk barefoot! Ouch!